


Can’t say

by RedHorse



Series: Sirry Ficlets [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Time Travel, marauders’ era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 23:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHorse/pseuds/RedHorse
Summary: Harry is thrown back in time. Kind of.





	Can’t say

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt on my tumblr! I’ve been trying to post it there and it’s not working for some reason so here it is instead!
> 
> From anonymous:
> 
> sirius/harry: during the battle of the department of Mysteries harry gets sent back in time to when sirius/james/lily/lupin are at hogwarts. take it from there ahaha 
> 
> I hope you like it, anon!

“Just don’t make this weird,” James made Harry promise for what felt like the twentieth time.

 

“It’s already weird,” Harry muttered, hunching his shoulders. 

 

“You don’t talk like someone from a thousand years ago,” James said pensively. “So I think you must be my descendent, not my ancestor?”

 

Harry gave James a flat look in answer. James was hard to dislike, but Harry  _ did _ dislike him, for some reason. Maybe it was because it was the worst sort of mockery, to meet this version of a father that Harry would never have, and who could never know who Harry was to him.

 

“You’re not even supposed to guess,” Harry mumbled. “Come on, we’ll be late.” He struck off ahead toward the invisible portal that would lead them to the platform, tired of standing still.

 

James was only startled a moment, then he jogged after him. “So you went to Hogwarts! Or, you will.”

 

At Harry’s sidelong look of surprise, he grinned in a way that Harry thought was familiar. He’d seen his own face look like that once in a certain mirror. “You know where to enter the platform,” James explained as they walked through.

 

“You’re not supposed to guess,” Harry murmured weakly.

 

And then he didn’t have to worry about James’ sleuthing, because Remus and Sirius and— _ Peter Pettigrew _ were heading their way, with excited grins for James and curious glances for Harry.

 

“Let me handle this,” murmured James, briefly clasping Harry’s shoulder, and when his hand fell away Harry was off-balance. Maybe he didn’t dislike this teenage version of his father after all. Maybe it was the sight of the boy who’d conspire to murder his parents, looking shy and pimpled. Maybe it was Sirius, who, drawing closer, was an unimaginably vibrant version of the man Harry had left in 1995.

 

*

 

Meeting Lily was slightly less of a shock, but maybe only because Harry was past the point of being overwhelmed by that evening after the welcome feast. They’d spared him a Sorting and let him wear the Gryffindor crest.

 

Lily was just as beautiful as he remembered her from the handful of photographs he’d seen.

 

“But where is he  _ from _ ?” she insisted of James a third time. James’ general friendly extroversion was completely corrupted by proximity to her, though, so he only made vague explanatory noises while her eyes got narrower and narrower.

 

Sirius suddenly appeared amidst them and slung an arm around Harry’s neck.

 

“It’s a mystery,” he explained, looking back and forth between James and Lily with a sly smile. Then his face froze, and he slowly looked from Harry to Lily instead. Harry imagined, given the light, that both their eyes would appear especially green.

 

*

 

Standing alone by the fireplace in the common room, Sirius came closer, brushing Harry’s cheek with one knuckle.

 

“I like your face.”

 

“You do,” Harry said dumbly.

 

“Yeah.” Sirius quirked a smile and brushed Harry’s fringe off his forehead. “S’nice.”

 

Harry had an unwelcome thought. “So you like James’ face too?” He narrowed his eyes.

 

Sirius’ hand stilled and he frowned faintly, looking thoughtful. Then his fingers began moving again, gently carding through Harry’s hair. “Nah.”

 

“But you always say we’re so alike,” Harry reminded him, meanwhile shifting closer to Sirius, feeling daring and sinful, like something taboo was going on. But in this time Sirius wasn’t his godfather or even that much older than him. He was just a beautiful boy who murmured approvingly when Harry slid his hand over the smooth, hard curve of his hip.

 

“James is too tall,” Sirius began, which of course had nothing to do with whether he and Harry resembled one another in the face. “And he has a terrible smell. His socks, Harry, I’m telling you. They could fell an Erumpet.” He leaned in and inhaled, making Harry dangerously dizzy. “You smell nice.” He tugged Harry closer so their chests pressed together. “And you’re just the right height…”

 

Just then, James and Lily came through the door, arguing as usual, but froze at the sight of Sirius and Harry.

 

“Get your hands  _ off… _ ” James drew his wand and then shot Lily a worried look.

 

Sirius stepped back with perfect composure and raised his hands. “Look—“

 

But even though he’d surrendered, James hexed him anyway.

 

*

 

“You know,” Harry pointed out. “You’re not  _ actually _ my dad.”

 

“I know,” James signed. “Lily explained it. Dimensions and time travel, irrevocable shifts, etcetera.” He pursed his lips. “But we’re still…” he reached a hand toward Harry’s knee, and it hovered a moment before descending and clutching Harry gently, a warm weight. “We’re still family.”

 

Harry met his eye and matched his shaky smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. How he’d ever thought he’d dislike James was beyond him now.

 

“And,” James added with more confidence, “Sirius Black is still a shameless dog.”

 

“Literally,” Harry agreed, laughing. James laughed too, but had a confused look on his face. “I mean Padfoot,” Harry began to explain, but when James’ frown deepened without understanding, Harry cleared his throat.

 

“Never mind.”

 

Dimensions and time travel, irrevocable shifts, etcetera.

 

*

 

Remus tutored Peter in the evenings and after Harry got his first round of marks, he was forcibly added to the sessions. He tried not to focus on sitting so near _Peter_ _Pettigrew_ , who was inexplicably _likable_. Harry wasn’t exactly surprised; he knew his parents had trusted Peter as much as anyone. But it didn’t make sense for Harry to find himself occasionally fooled, smiling absently at something charming Peter said or did.

 

Maybe this Peter was different, better. Maybe one day another Harry would grow up with three godfathers.

 

“You’re good at this, Harry,” said Remus with a smile, his hair thick and messy. He had a bright pink scar at the corner of his mouth that looked exactly like one, aged to silver, Harry had noticed in his own world when he met Remus on the train.

 

Harry’s eyes widened at once. “At  _ Potions _ ?” He stared down at his homework in dismay.

 

“Yes,” Remus said, amused. A cat leapt onto the table, hissed at him and leapt back down. Harry pretended not to notice.

 

“Kneazles really loathe Remus,” Peter explained to Harry. “It’s the strangest thing.”

 

“Hurry up and finish,” Remus reminded Peter kindly. “When James and Sirius get here, we’re going to get back to researching Harry’s...situation.”

 

The Unspeakables hadn’t mentioned whether they’d made any progress figuring out how to send Harry back, but Harry half-expected the Marauders to beat them to it anyway. They were like having several Hermiones but supplemented by two ancestral magical libraries and much more context.

 

As though summoned by the thought, in came Sirius and James. Sirius pulled up a chair next to Harry, ignoring James’ scowl, and sat so their calves pressed together. Harry was so distracted he almost didn’t notice that Lily was standing slightly behind an uncharacteristically solemn James.

 

She looked at Harry with hesitancy, but new warmth too. “James said I could help.”

 

*

 

In the middle of the night Sirius slid into Harry’s bed. Harry yelped in undignified surprise.

 

“I know you can’t say,” Sirius whispered, not apologizing for startling him. His eyes seemed bright and clear in the dark. “But in your time—we know each other, don’t we?”

 

Harry couldn’t say. The Unspeakables’ magic ensured that. But he could stare back in silent confirmation.

 

“Do you—do we—“ Sirius was never like this, but somehow he was on his back foot. Finally, after months of eradicating all Harry’s restraint and composure, he’d lost his own. “I...don’t want you to go, Harry.”

 

“I…” Harry started, expecting the magic to stop him, but it didn’t. “I don’t want to go either.”

 

If he stayed Harry could watch Lily start to feel for James as he felt for her. He could protect them from whatever form Peter’s betrayal took. He could be the one to learn the Animagus magic first, and help this Remus who still had hope in his eyes.

 

If he stayed, Harry could have this Sirius, who let Harry kiss him, who bit his lip in mystified delight when Harry reached beneath the waistband of his trousers. 

 

But. He had to go.

 

_ I have to. James and Lily died for me to defeat him. You waited in prison ten years so we could stop him. _

 

And though Harry was captivated by this young Sirius, without tattoos or scars on his perfect alabaster skin, whose hands worked their way under his shirt without hesitation and only a faint tremble—he was also aware of the Sirius he’d lost.

 

The Sirius who needed him much more.

 

*

 

When he stumbled back into his rightful place in time, Sirius was the first one to reach out and hug him.

 

He needed to wash his hair. He was taller, and also somehow too wiry. Harry would force feed him if he had to, and—

 

Sirius pulled away, eyes shining and rueful. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. He meant, Harry realized, the hug. In this life the two of them hadn’t done a lot of that. Harry grabbed his forearms and pulled them back together with a low noise of argument.

 

Sirius laughed wetly and his hands tentatively settled on Harry’s back. “Okay then,” he said softly. “You’re alright, aren’t you?” Harry wasn’t sure, but he thought the warm pressure on top of his head might be a kiss.

 

“Yeah,” Harry said, blinking back tears. “It’s just that I miss—I missed you.”


End file.
